Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 15

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 15. Berik
Seventeen-year-old Berik was an unusual boy. With fiery red hair that matched his temperament, his fellow trainees didn’t care for him. It had been that way from the moment he first arrived.
When the drill sergeant challenged him to a fight, saying he’d beat discipline into him, Berik refused to yield even as his arms and legs broke, fighting on. Eventually, he collapsed, but that was all.
“A boy who never loses, even if he never wins.”
All the trainees called him that behind his back.
“Rest.”
“Haaa.”
“Move to the shade.”
Under the scorching sun of the Training Ground, as the Instructor ordered rest and everyone staggered to move, no one helped Berik to his feet.
Berik didn’t seem to expect it either, simply closing his eyes and catching his breath. He’d move on his own in a moment.
“Berik?”
Berik opened his eyes at the unfamiliar voice calling his name. Golden hair shimmered brightly, but that was all. His vision was blurred and he couldn’t see well.
“Can you stand?”
“…Who are you?”
“Ian.”
“Get lost.”
I knew the Count of Bratz had a bastard son. But I didn’t know the boy before me was that person.
He was beneath my notice. After nearly half a year of dormitory life, I didn’t even know my bunkmate’s name. There was no way I’d know about a child who’d arrived at the Manor a month ago, living like a corpse.
‘What a rotten personality.’
Meanwhile, I looked down at him and thought quietly. No matter how I looked at it, he matched the characteristics of a Mage Knight.
One might call it prejudice, but for some reason, every Mage Knight I’d ever seen had a personality like that. They were always restless, acting out as if they had to cut through everything.
“Your attitude is quite disrespectful.”
“Ah….”
I poured water over his face and scolded him. Berik simply kept his eyes closed and his mouth open, as if refreshed.
I glanced back. Chel and Deo, along with the other trainees, watched me with confusion from the shade. Their expressions showed they couldn’t fathom what the bastard son was trying to do.
‘Let me test something.’
I turned my back to them and crouched down. Pretending to give him water, I grasped his chin. My mana flowed out through my fingertips where they touched.
“….”
Berik’s face, which had been furrowed in pain, gradually relaxed. How should I describe it? It felt like the clot of blood that had filled his entire body was slowly melting away.
Just a little more, just a little more….
Whether he thought it was the relief the water brought, he looked ready to lick the ground. I scattered the remaining water and stood up.
‘That’s enough.’
Ordinary people cannot receive pure mana. It’s because of the difference in density of the vessel that holds power. Mana users have sturdy vessels so mana doesn’t leak, but ordinary people are like sieves with countless holes, unable to contain it.
That’s why healing and illusion magic are so valued. General-type offensive magic simply needs to be unleashed all at once regardless of the target, shattering the vessel. But transforming mana so the target can receive it—like healing or illusion—was among the highest of advanced techniques.
In any case, what about Berik?
He not only received the mana cleanly but responded immediately. Despite it being an extremely faint power, he was desperate, like a newborn seeking his mother’s breast.
‘He has potential.’
An unexpected discovery. I never thought I’d find the makings of a Mage Knight in a place like this.
I released my mana and headed toward Chel and Deo. Chel was already showing signs of exhaustion, sweating profusely. And he hadn’t done anything, just stood there.
“Brother, shall we call it a day and head back?”
It was exactly what I had been waiting to hear. Chel’s face brightened instantly, flushing with excitement.
“Really? Is that so?”
“And starting tomorrow, you’ll train with me.”
Immediately after, his expression darkened again as if he’d been thrust back into mud. Was it because he was still just a boy? I couldn’t fathom how his emotions were written so plainly across his face.
“As the next Count, you must do so.”
I added with a slight smile. Still, Berik lay on the training ground floor, feeling the lingering traces of mana within him.
* * *
“You’re going to the training ground with Chel?”
Count Derga asked in return. It was precisely when I had finished perfectly organizing all the information contained in the mana stone brooch. Though he had summoned me at dawn, the outside world was now densely scattered with stars.
I cleared my throat, which had grown hoarse from speaking all day.
“Yes. It’s right in front of the mansion rear gate, but since I must pass through the door, I’m seeking your permission, Father.”
Count Derga removed the mana stone from the glass container and wiped it with a dry cloth. His expression seemed both indifferent and vaguely suspicious.
“I have no other intentions. As I mentioned, even a brief outing consumes considerable stamina. If both of the household’s young heirs are in such a state, we’ll be scorned by the Cheonryo Tribe, and above all, I fear we won’t endure when crossing the border and traversing the desert.”
It was a reasonable argument. Count Derga pushed the stack of documents aside and threw out a remark. His tone, as if testing me, was utterly arrogant.
“Frequent outings will make you restless.”
How do I know you won’t harbor other thoughts? That was the question. Meeting Mollin periodically was honestly unsettling enough, and he was reluctant to keep granting opportunities.
I pulled a letter from my pocket.
“It’s a reply to the pouch you gave me before.”
A letter to my mother. I answered with that instead. As long as Mother existed, I couldn’t do anything foolish—surely you knew that better than anyone, Father.
Count Derga unfolded the neatly folded paper slightly.
“Please tell Mother that my penmanship is still immature.”
That much. Count Derga had already heard from the butler that the tutor had written the reply during class time.
Rustle.
He unfolded the letter. The handwriting was messy, but the affection contained within was unmistakably felt.
-Mother. Please don’t worry. I’m doing well here. The Count, the Countess, and the Young Master all care for me well. I will surely search for what you asked of me. Please remain safe until the day I return. I send my longing along with a brief song. When the moon falls from the sky, the sun rises. There is no eternal darkness.
The last line seemed to be a cipher between mother and child.
Count Derga saw the sentence where I vowed to find the gruit leaves and stroked his beard. It was an action to hide the subtle smile that threatened to emerge.
“What did your mother ask of you?”
“Father… didn’t you see the pouch?”
I asked as if testing him, but an unexpected answer came back.
Count Derga lifted his head and examined my face. Unusually sharp, it was clear I was concerned about my mother’s message to keep it secret from him. An unmistakable smile played at the corners of Count Derga’s mouth.
“Do I seem that idle to you?”
“…No. I wouldn’t know, but it’s a hair ornament that Cheonryo Tribe women typically wear.”
But all of this was also my calculation.
In a situation where I had to hide my mother’s request, I acted as if doubting whether Count Derga had even checked the letter. I deliberately lowered my eyes as if wary and even trembled my voice…
Ah. I really can’t pull this off. Acting truly isn’t to my taste, and I have no talent for it either.
And Count Derga, who fell for it so easily, how foolish must he be.
“If you permit it, I’ll go to the training ground starting tomorrow.”
I deliberately changed the subject. I had already thoroughly worked Chel over and obtained Count Derga’s permission through him, but I needed to settle it definitively.
Count Derga nodded while stroking his beard.
“Don’t you dare use training as an excuse to harm Chel. If you do, Deo will slit your throat on the spot.”
He spoke such terrible words to the boy without the slightest hesitation. I nodded my head and bowed low, not forgetting to express my gratitude.
“By the way, when did you say you’d meet with Mollin again?”
“The day after tomorrow, sir.”
I would venture out again the day after tomorrow to meet with them.
At my words, Count Derga furrowed his brows as if contemplating something. Likely due to the Countess’s opposition, I wouldn’t be able to bring Chel along then.
“Understood.”
Count Derga waved his hand, dismissing me. Even as I turned to leave, I didn’t forget to scan his desk.
There must be something related to taxes among those documents….
Click.
I stood in the dark corridor, my thoughts turning to Mollin. What exactly was the value they sought in me?
I couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed clear enough that they aimed to bring down Count Derga. Even using me in Chel’s stead made a certain sense.
‘Then it must be the tax issue above all. They suspect Count Derga of tax evasion too.’
But what was dangerous was that tax evasion against the Imperial Palace was among the gravest of crimes. If unlucky, they could apply charges of treason and execute everyone bearing the Bratz name.
If I didn’t register my name… I would face the punishment of becoming a slave.
‘Regardless, it’s dangerous.’
If the Bratz name disappeared, so too would the family, and my own existence would lose all value. It meant danger lay ahead in my survival.
A tightrope walk with everything at stake.
Count Derga sought to sell me to the Desert, while Mollin aimed to devour the Bratz. I had to keep my wits about me between the two.
‘But now that I think about it, it seems they’ve planted eyes and ears throughout the manor. Especially regarding the letter—they clearly knew something about it.’
“Ian, sir?”
The Servant called to me, holding up a lantern. It was a summons to return to my bedchamber. I followed him across the corridor. Perhaps because it was the highest point of the manor, the flickering light from the Training Ground was still visible beyond the window.
“Everyone’s working late into the night.”
At my warm murmur, the Servant ahead of me smiled faintly. Hadn’t I myself been confined to Count Derga’s office all day, working the hardest? The Servant felt a subtle affinity for the boy who brought clean meals to the dining hall every day.
“I’ve prepared exercise clothes separately in your bedchamber.”
“Thank you.”
“May you have a peaceful night, Ian, sir.”
Meanwhile, in the Training Ground, men whose bodies still burned with heat wielded swords and spears, and among them, the most striking was the red-haired Berik.
“What did that bastard eat wrong today?”
“Right? He’s overflowing with energy.”
“He was dying just this afternoon.”
Berik, whose strength would drain from his entire body as the sun set like a candle being snuffed out, had not ceased wielding his sword even after everyone else had returned to their quarters.
Whoosh!
Crack!
With all his might, Berik severed the dummy’s neck. For the first time, his sword moved exactly as he willed. His rough breathing was drenched in exhilaration and pleasure.
“Ha… this is it, damn it.”
What could it be? Was the fruit of his training finally beginning to show? Or was it because he’d been collapsed all day? He didn’t know why the golden-haired boy beneath the sunlight kept appearing in his mind, but Berik gripped his sword once more.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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